


Birth-Strangled Babe

by Miss Synph (orphan_account)



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Adultery, Betrayal, Community: yj_anon_meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Miss%20Synph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superboy has another genetic donor: Lex Luthor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ?

In the end, all that it takes to bring down the mighty Superman was a condom that isn’t destroyed before the Man of Steel goes back to his perfect home to be with his perfect family and his perfect wife.

Lex Luthor isn’t being bitter when he has the scientists at CADMUS start looking for a way to mass-produce the superman. He isn’t being bitter when he makes his own scientists test hundreds of combinations of DNA to find one that works.

He’s not bitter.

He’s just... determined.

The two-hundredth and thirty-second embryo doesn’t die. His _son_ doesn’t die.

He has plans for his son, for Alexander Luthor the Second, that Superman will never be able to meet.

***

Lex sees the alert for the CADMUS fire on his security system as it’s happening, but it doesn’t worry him at first. It’s on the main two floors after all and if Dubbilex and the Genomorphs can’t keep the civilian authorities from investigating more, than they doesn’t deserve to live.

He starts to worry when he feels the explosion when he’s all the way on the top floor of LuthorCorp’s DC office.

When the smoke clears and he can send Mercy and Hope over to the labs to do some much needed reconnaissance, he finds out that the worst has happened: his son has been taken by those ridiculously costumed do-gooders.

No less than five of his own scientists are blacklisted and fired after the incident. After a year of work, he cannot stand to see his son and heir be taken away from him. He punches his security monitor hard enough to shatter the flat screen and slice up his fingers.

The external pain does wonders to distract him from the internal pain. Internal pain makes one weak and sloppy. And being weak and sloppy always leads to Lex having to deal with pseudo-worried looks from the biggest boy scout on the planet.

He grits his teeth as he replays the scenario in his head, as he pictures his heir apparent being spirited away by those cowards that called themselves the “Justice League.” He has to _work_ to keep from hunting them down, to keep from demanding that Superman give him back his son.

He has time.

He has power.

And best of all, he has a plan.

***

Lex’s earliest opportunity comes nearly a month later when the first sighting of a sullen teenager wearing Superman’s S-shield hits the Metropolis news. He stares at the grainy photos in the Daily Planet with a look of shock on his face as he recognizes the familiar line of his own jaw and his patrician’s nose.

That shock soon turns to rage when he reads the accompanying article (written by the husband and wife team of Lois Lane and Clark Kent) that gives his heir no quarter. They lambaste him mercilessly, calling the teenager a fraud and an amateur.

The worst of it all though, is that they insist on calling his boy, his true treasure in this world of sniveling sycophants and socialites: _Superboy_.

Lex can feel his lips curl with every word that he reads.

Halfway through the article, he throws the newspaper away and calls for Mercy in such a harsh tone that he can hear the clicking of her heels on the tile start to pick up speed as she trots to his door.

“Activate the nanochips,” he barks at her. “We’re going to bring my son back now before Superman and his band of nosy do-gooders brainwashes him further.” He stands up from behind his impressive oak desk and directs a glare out of windows that ring his private office. From his vantage point high above the rest of the city, he can see the top offices of the Daily Planet perfectly.

The sight does nothing to cool his rage and he can’t stop an angry growl from pushing past his lips.

“And, Mercy,” Lex says in a deceptively light voice as his bodyguard turns to head for the doors.

“Yes, Lex?”

“Send Lois Lane some flowers.”

One of Mercy’s perfect blonde brows arches and she tilts her head to the side as she regards her employer with a look of curiousity. “Do you have any preferences?”

“Send her something that she’s allergic to,” Lex says as he straightens his tie and thinks fondly about the memories that he’s soon to make with his son as soon as he gets the Justice League’s wretched ideas about logic and justice out of the boy’s head. “The worse the reaction, the better.”

Mercy smiles.

“I have just the thing, Lex.”


	2. Kidnapping

Superboy doesn’t get to leave Mount Justice very often. Most of the Justice League still thinks that he’s a threat to Superman and they treat him like he’s an aberration.

The last time he even tried to leave the base to go down to the water by himself, he found himself being escorted back at ringpoint (he’s not quite sure what the proper word is for that) by one scowling Hal Jordan.

The clone shudders a bit at the memory and pulls his jacket around his body. He’s not cold -can’t get cold- but the shiver running up and down his spine makes him panic a bit.

He shouldn’t be able to wander around Metropolis like this. He keeps looking up into the sky for a familiar red cape and biting his lip because he knows how much trouble he’ll be in if Superman figures out he’s in Metropolis.

Hell, he shouldn’t be in Metropolis in the first place.

He thinks about leaving, about heading back to Happy Harbor and his friends. In fact, he actually turns around with the express intention of finding the fastest way out of the city.

He stops dead in his tracks when he notices two women following close behind him.

“What do you want from me,” he growls as he turns to scowl at them. He doesn’t bother with remembering Black Canary’s stupid etiquette rules, doesn’t bother with trying to pretend that he doesn’t know that they’re after him. “If you’re going to try and pick a fight with me, at least have the decency to yell at me first.”

The taller woman, a blonde in a rather expensive suit, smirks at him. “We don’t want to pick a fight,” she says even as she clenches her fingers into fists and shifts into a looser stance. “We have an invitation for you from our employer.”

Superboy raises one eyebrow and crosses his arms over his massive chest. “And I’m supposed to just go with you?”

The other woman nods once and looks at Superboy expectantly.

“Of course you are,” she says in a soft voice that is very clear of all emotion. “If we thought you’d put up a fight, we would have brought tranquilizers.” She bares her teeth at him in what’s obviously supposed to be a smile and then tilts her head to the side as though she’s listening to a voice that only she can hear. “Oh. We were supposed to tell you that meeting with Lex Luthor would definitely anger Superman. Are you experiencing some kind of adolescent rebellion right now?”

Superboy growls again and his eyes dart around as he tries to look for a way out. “You want me to meet with Lex Luthor,” he says. “You probably should have brought the tranquilizers.”

He feels a subtle sort of pinch as a wave of nausea washes over him.

When he looks down, he sees a green tipped dart sticking out of his arm.

The blonde smiles at Superboy as she moves to stand at his side. She holds him up with no effort at all and watches as the kryptonite-laced tranquilizer dart takes effect. “My mistake,” she says as the boy stares up at her with wide and unfocused eyes. “Hope didn’t know that I had a few darts with me.”

As Superboy slides into the realm of unconsciousness, his last thoughts aren’t fearful.

He wonders why Lex Luthor is going through the trouble of kidnapping someone that even _Superman_ finds unworthy of a second chance.


	3. White Noise

Superboy wakes up on a huge couch in a very expensive looking office. When he blinks, he notices Lex Luthor sitting catty-corner to him and taking small sips from a glass of wine. He struggles to sit up as his head firmly protests any movement and he narrows his eyes at the older man.

“What do you want from me,” he growls out as he sits up and digs his fingers into the couch hard enough to tear the smooth leather. “Why did you kidnap me?”

Luthor shakes his head. “It wasn’t meant to seem like a kidnapping,” the older man murmurs in a carefully neutral tone. “If you had come along without a fight, Mercy and Hope would have never had to use the tranquilizers.” He frowns slightly and Superboy barely catches the expression as he stares at Luthor’s smooth face. “To be honest, I never intended to force you to meet with me.”

Superboy crosses his arms and scowls at Luthor. “Well you did, so what do you want?” It’s strange, but it feels a little wrong for Superboy to be snappish with Lex Luthor. It feels like an obnoxious buzzing in the back of his skull, one that can be ignored until he starts to pay attention to it. He starts to scowl harder and he has to work to keep from shouting at Luthor or hitting him.

It’s one of the things Black Canary has him working on.

He grits his teeth hard enough to shower the inside of his mouth with sparks that dance across his palate. When Superboy finally manages to speak, his voice is low and gravely with the effort that he is making not to shout himself hoarse. “What did you do to me, Luthor,” he snarls.

Luthor looks nonplussed and he blinks at Superboy as he forgets to uphold the confident façade that he has been wearing the entire time. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“The buzzing,” Superboy snaps as he gestures at his head with shaking fingers. He can feel his anger, the familiar rage and frustration at not getting answers or attention. “It wasn’t doing this before. Make it stop!”

Luthor holds his hands up to stop Superboy from yelling. He looks genuinely perplexed at first, but then his eyes narrow. “What buzzing,” he asks as he leans forward and quits at the young clone. “I don’t hear anything.”

Superboy’s lip curls. He narrows his eyes at Luthor and clenches his fists. “You _wouldn’t_ ,” he sneers as he watches the older man warily. “I’m sure that you have something implanted in my head... Turn it off!” He can’t take much more of it, can’t take feeling something in the very back of his head clamor and call for him to behave.

With every passing second spent sitting there and watching Lex Luthor pretend as though he has no idea what’s going on, Superboy feels a familiar rage finally take over.

“You’re just like Superman,” he barks out angrily. The buzzing subsides under a wave of satisfaction that comes from watching Luthor flinch backwards and then glare at him. “You’re both so alike: always pretending. He pretends that I don’t exist and you pretend that you don’t know why I’m like this.” He pushes up from the couch and makes to leave. “I’m sick of it!”

He turns to the door and then stops dead in his tracks.

The tall blonde woman from the alley is standing at the door with a very large gun in her hands. From the wide smile on her face, it looks as though she would love to have a chance to try her glowing green weapon out on Superboy should he try to leave without Luthor’s express permission.

“Why don’t you sit down,” she calls out before Superboy can so much as take a step. “I don’t think Lex is finished talking to you.”

“Thank you, Mercy,” Luthor says as he crosses his legs at the knee and smiles up at Superboy. He gestures towards the couch and waits patiently for Superboy to retake his seat. When the scowling clone throws himself onto the couch hard enough to set the floor to vibrating, Luthor merely continues smiling. “Now that you know that you can’t leave without Mercy hurting you, will you listen to me?”

The only thing Superboy can do is nod his head and wonder why his team hasn’t seemed to notice that he’s no longer at the base.


End file.
